


How Bucky Got His Groove Back

by awesomecherry



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Makes Friends, Bucky Barnes just wants to take care of everyone, Bucky knows exactly what Steve needs, Bucky puts down his weapons in favor of becoming a den mother, Bucky's unusual route to recovery, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rimming, Steve and Bucky are bad at communicating, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomecherry/pseuds/awesomecherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three things Bucky learned on his first official mission with the Avengers:</p>
<p>1.	Steve looks smoking hot in his uniform</p>
<p>2.	Stark is even more annoying when he’s given free reign of the comms</p>
<p>3.	Bucky is not cut out for this avenging shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to the Sad Confetti Squad for hand holding me through my inevitable writing breakdowns, and a special shoutout to Aphrodisia for being an amazing and wonderful beta. <3

He really thought he could do it. He thought he could get right back into watching Steve’s back, going on missions. Get back on the violence horse, so to speak. But three minutes into his first mission as one of the Avengers taking down a HYDRA holdout cell, and Bucky loses sight of Steve under a barrage of bullets.

Bucky’s supposed to be providing cover for Steve and Natasha while they breach the building’s perimeter, and then join the rest of the team for the takedown of the base. He’s too busy watching for Steve’s shield through the scope to be providing much of anything.

But Bucky sees dust and flying dirt where Steve is supposed to be, hears the distinct _clang_ of bullets hitting the shield, and his heart starts beating double time. His breathing picks up, until he’s nearly hyperventilating, and his hands shake where they’re wrapped around his sniper rifle.

He finds himself breaking from his position and heading for Steve without conscious thought.

Natasha and Steve have already taken care of most of the guards. Bucky takes care of the rest with a few well-placed bullets.

“Steve!” He shouts, forgetting for a second that he’s still on comms, and his scream will be transmitted to everyone. “Steve!”

“ _Barnes, what are you doing?!”_

_“Captain, do something. Barnes is losing it.”_

“Bucky, calm down!”

Bucky lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as Steve appears in front of him, unharmed and confused. “Steve,” he says, calmer.

 _“Not to ruin this touching moment, but we’re sort of in the middle of something here.”_ Tony’s voice lacks its usual humor, instead he sounds mildly confused and a little irritated. _“Natasha could use your help inside, Cap.”_

Steve spares Bucky a quick, concerned look before he darts towards the entrance of the building.

Bucky can’t help but follow.

They manage to complete the mission mainly because the rest of the team picks up Bucky’s slack. Steve adapts to having Bucky constantly at his back, and adjusts his fighting style accordingly. Natasha pretends like she’s not watching Bucky out of the corner of her eye while they destroy the building.

After they’ve set the timer on the explosive planted in the building and everyone is back on the quinjet, Bucky separates himself from the others and drowns in the silence. He really thought he was ready.

He’s thankful that Steve gives him his space. He doesn’t know how to tell Steve what went wrong. He’s not even sure himself. He thought it would be easy to follow Steve back into the field. He’d followed him back into Nazi Occupied territory after all, and that was before he was as proficient both with and without weapons as he is now. There is no one better suited to watch Steve’s back.

And yet…

Watching Steve be shot at, losing sight of Steve on a dangerous mission, even just the thought of watching Steve throw himself headfirst into danger, makes Bucky’s stomach roll. He panicked, plain and simple. He saw the bullets and Steve go down, and even though he knew Steve was protecting himself with the shield, in his mind he saw Steve from the helicarrier, face bloodied and bruised, accepting the fact he was about to die.

Bucky crumples the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in.

He can’t handle the thought of Steve dying, can’t handle that he might be there, so close to Steve, and unable to stop it. Steve is the only tie he has to this new world. Steve is tied to the parts of himself he clawed out of 70 years of repression from torture and pain.

Without Steve, he has nothing.

The quinjet sets down back at the Tower, and Bucky waits until everyone else is off before he even bothers to stand up. He’s not surprised to find Steve waiting for him by the elevator.

“You ready to talk about it yet?”

“Do I have a choice?” Bucky spits out as he follows Steve into the elevator, and jabs angrily at the button for their floor. When he looks over, Steve’s eyes are wide with shock.

“Of course you do, Buck.” Steve says quietly.

Bucky flushes with guilt, but doesn’t apologize. He lets the silence linger. He’s out the doors as soon as the elevator stops on their floor.

“We need to talk about this, Buck.” Steve calls softly, stopping in the middle of the living room and staring Bucky down.  

Bucky makes a _go on_ gesture, and crosses his arms, shoulders hunched up around his ears defensively. Anger is the best defense he has.

“Did I--” Steve pauses, uncertain, and shifts from foot to foot. “Did I _push_ you into coming back out in the field?”

“What? No, of course not.” Bucky uncrosses his arms, defensiveness draining away. “I thought I was ready. I thought I could handle it.” He paces away from Steve. “We’ve been training with the simulator for months.”

“So what was different today?” Steve steps back, gives Bucky space to walk. He keeps his tone light and even, no sign of anger or disappointment.

Bucky runs a hand through his too-long hair, pulling the strands out of the sloppy ponytail he’d had it in. “I lost sight of you.”

“You’ve practiced providing back-up during the simulations before. You don’t always have eyes on me then.”

“I know, Steve.” It comes out harsher than Bucky wants it to. “I know.” He repeats, softer.

“But today was different.” Steve says. It isn’t a question.

“I can’t do it Steve. I can’t watch you get shot at right in front of me. I can’t watch you die, not again.”

“Buck-” Steve starts, confused, but Bucky cuts him off.

“I thought I killed you.” Bucky has to turn away from Steve. He can’t look him in the eye while he’s remembering the helicarrier. “I watched you fall. You didn’t try to protect yourself, you just dropped like a stone. I thought I killed you.”

“Bucky, c’mon. It’s not- that’s not-”

“Then I saw you getting shot at by those HYDRA goons, and then you were gone. I couldn’t see you anymore, okay? What if you were dying and I was too far away to save you? I just... I’m sorry, Steve, but I can’t do it. If I’m out in the field, you are always gonna be my top priority.”

“Bucky.” Steve sighs.

Bucky watches Steve’s reflection in the windows. He sees him reach out tentatively before he pulls his hand back. Bucky turns around, and takes a step closer to Steve. “You understand, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve shrugs. “But where does that leave us? I can’t have you out in the field with me, knowing you’re watching my back more than your own. I won’t be able to focus on the mission.”

“You think I should stay here; not go out into the field.”

“Don’t you?” Steve bites his lip, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at Bucky.

“I’m just supposed to stay at home, and what? Twiddle my thumbs while you’re out there throwing yourself in the path of bullets, taking down HYDRA, cleaning up my mess?” Bucky rocks forward, anger and disappointment at himself burning through his veins.

“Bucky you’ve done enough.” Steve grasps Bucky’s shoulder, the grip gentle but firm enough to keep Bucky from turning away. “We’ve **both** done enough. Do you need me to lay down the shield? Because I will. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Even if that means we both retire and go live on a farm in the middle of nowhere together. Whatever you need me to do Bucky, as long as you’re not out in the field with me.”

“I can’t ask you to give up the shield.”

Steve frowns and shakes Bucky just a little. “You’re not askin’, I’m offerin’.”

Bucky huffs as he shrugs his shoulders. “One of us should be out there helping people.” It’s not the whole reason Bucky won’t let Steve give up the shield, but it’s the only one he’ll give. He’s not going to tell Steve that he thinks Steve _needs_ to be Captain America, that Steve would be lost without the shield and the mantle.   

“How am I supposed to live with myself if you get killed out there because I’m not with you?” Bucky closes the distance between himself and Steve, lets Steve wrap his arms around him. “What would I do then?”

“It’s not gonna happen, Buck. I have every reason in the world not to do anything stupid. To make sure I come home to you.” Steve kisses the side of Bucky’s face, hugs him as tight as he can.

“This doesn’t make me a kept man.”

“Of course not, Buck.”


	2. Chapter One

It takes less than one mission for Bucky to realize staying at the tower and waiting for updates isn’t an option.

During the first mission Bucky is sidelined for, Steve misses his check in by three minutes. In that same amount of time, Bucky manages to destroy one holographic screen, the keyboard for said-holographic screen, the table the keyboard was on, the chair he was sitting in, and approximately five coffee cups.

By the time Steve gives the all clear, Maria Hill has banished Bucky from the command center, for the sake of the room and her own sanity.  Bucky spends the rest of that mission pacing a groove into the carpet outside the command center, and shouting questions through the bolted shut door.

Maria threatens to quit if she’s left with Bucky during another mission ever again.

On the second mission Bucky is sidelined for, Bucky takes the heavily-suggested idea that he try to work his anxiety out in the gym.

He starts out on the simulator course, and wreaks a path of havoc and destruction so wide that he breaks through the wall adjoining the gym trying to escape the smoking mess of ruins behind him.

The smoke alarms blare, water shoots down from the sprinklers, and Bucky is left heaving for air in the next room over. When the team arrives back to find the Tower teeming with firefighters and EMT’s, it’s Tony who threatens to quit if Bucky is left alone in the Tower while they’re on their missions.

Bucky doesn’t argue. Mostly because he’s not supposed to talk until the smoke damage in his throat heals.

For the third mission he’s not allowed to go on, Bucky takes to the streets. He starts by wandering aimlessly, following the midday crowd. He becomes part of the normal, everyday crowd. He keeps his phone close to him, ready for any updates Hill might be kind enough to send, and eventually he even starts to relax.

He buys a hotdog from a vendor on the street corner. He buys a pretzel from a vendor on a different street corner. He buys all the balloons from the vendor in the park and hands them out to the children playing on the playground. He has to leave immediately after because the parents all look at him suspiciously. Still, he feels at peace. Happy.

There’s something soothing about being just another faceless person in a crowd of faceless people. Instead of making him feel invisible, it makes him feel like he’s a part of something bigger than himself. It makes him feel tied to the Earth, to the people who inhabit it. He finds it soothing.

His phone chimes with a text message just as the sun in starting to set.

  **The Team is on their way back**

Bucky laughs, feeling light and free. He managed to last the entire mission without breaking anything or freaking out. He heads back to the Tower with a smile on his face and a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

Steve’s in the post-mission briefing when Bucky gets back to the Tower, so Bucky heads back to their apartment and runs a bath in their hot tub-sized Jacuzzi bathtub. He adds in the lavender bubble bath that always makes Steve melt, and runs the water as hot as he can stand it.

By the time Steve enters their apartment, the bathtub is filled to the brim, with steam that smells of lavender filling the room, and Bucky is waiting on the edge of the tub for him, completely naked.

“Buck?” Steve calls out.

“Bathroom!” Bucky yells back. He listens to the sounds of the Steve dropping his gear in the hallway, the thunk of his boots hitting the wall when he kicks them off, the clunk of his tac belt hitting the floor. “You better pick all that shit up later. I don’t want to trip over it in the middle of night.”

Steve’s breath catches when he gets to the open bathroom door, stripped down to his uniform pants, and sees Bucky watching him. “Yeah, I’ll get it later.”

“You gonna join me or are you just gonna stare at me, Soldier?” Bucky stretches his legs out in front of him, leans back, and looks up at Steve through his lashes. He smirks when Steve licks his lips and practically rips his pants off.

“How was your day?” Steve asks as he saunters closer to Bucky, leaning down to kiss him lightly. “You didn’t break anything this time?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Bucky huffs, winding his arms around Steve’s tiny waist. “No talking until we’re in the tub. You need to relax.”

“You don’t hafta-” Steve starts, but Bucky stands, lifting Steve with him, and climbs in the tub with Steve, pulling Steve down into his lap in the water. “Fine, fine.”

Bucky grabs a washcloth and dips it in the water before scrubbing Steve’s back with it. “Did the mission go as planned?”

Steve melts in Bucky’s arms, back arching like a cat into Bucky’s touch. “Yeah, it went fine. It was a low level base of operations, no good defenses, real light on the perimeter guard.”

“Sounds like a cake walk.” Bucky moves the cloth down Steve’s body, a teasing brush against his crack before he moves it around to Steve’s chest.

Steve pouts, and rocks down on Bucky’s hard cock. “It **was** a cake walk.”

Bucky _tsks_ and grips Steve’s hip to hold him still. “Relax Stevie. We’ve got all night.”

“What about your day?” Steve waits until Bucky’s finished washing his chest before he drapes himself fully on Bucky, tucking his face in Bucky’s neck, letting the warm water relax him.

“Maria said you went out of the Tower.”

“You getting Hill to spy on me, Stevie?” Bucky chuckles, sinking deeper in the water. He needs to wash his hair, and Steve could do with some conditioner, but for the moment he’s content to bask in the warm water with Steve draped over him.

“M’just worried about you.” Steve curls his fingers in the hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck, tugs the strands lightly.

“I’m fine. I actually... it was-” Bucky shifts in the tub, lets his head drop back against the ledge.

“It was good. I was happy.”

“What did you do?” Steve kisses Bucky’s neck, bites lightly at the tendon, and sucks a bruise.

“’Cause it’s easy to think with you doing that.” Bucky grumbles, gripping Steve’s ass, digging his fingers in, and rocking Steve forward against his stomach. “I just went out, walked with the crowds, explored the area. It was nice. I was just another normal person.”

“I’m happy for you, Buck. Glad you found something to do, something to keep your mind occupied.” Steve rolls his hips, voice heavy with lust. He bites at the corner of Bucky’s jaw, letting out a soft little _oh!_ when his cock rubs against Bucky’s abs.

“Mhmm, you seem real happy for me too.” Bucky grips Steve’s jaw gently with one hand. He pulls his head up from his neck to kiss him, wet and dirty, and slides the fingers of his other hand between Steve’s cheeks, to brush them against his hole.

Steve moans into the kiss, pants open mouthed against Bucky’s lips as he rocks back on Bucky’s hand, trying to get his finger where he wants them. “Bucky, c’mon. Want it, want you.”

“Shhh, Stevie. Relax.” Bucky whispers, teasing Steve’s rim with two fingers, touch featherlight.

“Let me take care of you, ‘kay? You don’t hafta give orders here.”

The muscles in Steve’s back tense, thighs clamped tight on the outside of Bucky’s legs, before he slowly relaxes, sighing as he goes completely limp in Bucky’s arms. “’Kay, Buck.”

Bucky rewards him by giving Steve two fingers at once. The water keeps it from being too dry, and Steve accepts them easily. “So good for me, Stevie.”

Steve shivers when Bucky crooks his fingers, rolling his hips back on to them slightly.

Bucky reaches between their bodies to wrap a hand around Steve’s cock, stroking it at the same pace his fingers are moving inside Steve. “That’s right baby, take what you need.” He croons softly as Steve rocks forward into Bucky’s fist, then back on his fingers.

“Another, Bucky, please, gimme another.” Steve whines, gripping Bucky’s shoulders tight.

“Of course, Stevie, just relax, you’re getting all tense again. I’m taking care of you, I’ll give you what you need.” Bucky wedges a third finger beside his other two and strokes them over Steve’s prostate continuously until Steve is shaking in his lap, fingers digging into his skin. “C’mon, Steve, baby, just relax and let go.” He twists his wrist, thumbs at the bundle of nerves under the sensitive head of Steve’s dick, tightening his grip.

“Bucky! Fuck.” Steve moans, hips jerking faster. “M’close.” He pants into Bucky’s neck, teetering on the edge of orgasm. “So close, Buck, please.”

Bucky rubs Steve’s rim with his thumb as he quickens the pace of his fingers, his other hand jerking Steve off just the way Steve likes it. “C’mon, Stevie, you gonna come for me?”

“Yes, Bucky, yes! Right there, right there, yes, yes, Buck!” Steve tosses his head back, muscles gone taunt as he starts to come.

Bucky works him through it, keeps stroking him and rubbing against his prostate until Steve’s whimpering from overstimulation, shaking against Bucky’s chest. “There we go. Feel better now, huh?” He removes his fingers carefully and leans over to unplug the stopper. He grips Steve’s thigh with one hand and wraps the other around Steve’s waist, before standing up, Steve clinging to him like a limpet.

“Bucky.” Steve whines. “Put me down, I can walk.”

“Shut up, Steve.” Bucky smacks Steve’s ass just hard enough to make Steve gasp. “Thought you were letting me take care of you?”

“I am.” Steve grumbles when Bucky drops him on the bed. “I’m getting the sheets all wet.”

“I think the sheets will survive.” Bucky grabs the covers and pulls them up over Steve.

“Wait, what about you? I wanna make you feel good too.” Steve tries to sit up, but Bucky pushes on his shoulder until he gives in and lies flat.

“You can make me feel good by going to sleep. You need the rest.”

“It’s not even that late.” Steve pouts. “You’re not coming to bed with me?” He bats his eyelashes at Bucky, the little shit.

Bucky sighs, over-dramatic and completely put upon. “Fine, scoot over you big baby.”

Steve makes a happy little noise, and holds the edge of the covers up for Bucky to slide under next to him. Once Bucky is settled, Steve immediately curls into his side. Bucky’s unsurprised when Steve’s asleep within five minutes.

Bucky _is_ surprised, pleasantly so, when he wakes up the next morning with Steve’s mouth, tight and hot, on his morning wood.

∞

It becomes a habit. Roaming the streets while Steve is away on missions or busy at briefings. He tries leaving at different times of the day to fully experience the city at different times.

He learns the 5-6 am crowd is mostly runners who pay him no mind, too focused on their path and music pounding in their ears.

He watches the population change from the 8am business crowd on their way to work, to mothers out with their kids, taking them to the park or doing their daily errands.

He gets to know the local vendors before the lunch rush hits. Juan Carlo, who sells flowers and newspapers outside the subway station closest to the Tower. Old Man McKinley, that sells ice cream and can always be talked into giving wide eyed children a free treat. A former drill sergeant, he pushes his cart around the park to keep in shape, give him something to do, and because   _“I have to do something to keep from going senile”_.

Bucky learns the ebb and flow of the city. He becomes friends with the local homeless population, and starts carrying cash on him at all times to hand out. He helps Maureen, an older woman with eyes gone glassy from cataracts, collect cans in Central Park every Tuesday. He learns where the local homeless shelters are, and how quickly they fill up.

He buys out all the sleeping bags in the tri-state area to hand out to those who can’t find space in a shelter.

On Wednesdays, he watches the weekly soccer game hosted by a group of veterans. After a few weeks, he gives in to their constant coaxing and joins in. He’s bad at it, but he still has a blast. If Steve ever gets enough time off, he plans to bring Steve around for a game.

He becomes a fixture around the city. Especially because he has so much time on his hands.

Apparently, Rumlow had popped up on the team’s radar, and Steve is putting all of his time and energy into hunting him down. Being out in the city, helps Bucky from drowning in how much he misses Steve. It keeps his mind off of the fact that Steve’s been calling less and less as his mission stretches on, and has been coming home even more rarely. Bucky’s barely gotten to say two words to Steve in the last month, and it’s eating away at him.

Three months after he first started exploring the city, he’s waiting with Frank, one of the homeless veterans he’s become friends with, in the credit union line. He’s here to help him open a checking account for his VA disability pay checks Bucky had asked Sam to help set up, when gunshots go off behind him.

Bucky pushes Frank to the ground, and crouches over him, pulling a knife out of the sheath on his thigh. He spins towards the source of the shots, staying low as the bank erupts in screaming and shouting.

“Everyone get on the ground!” The guy has a black ski mask covering his face, and a semi-automatic in his hands. Bucky debates killing him on the spot, but he’s pretty sure Steve would be disappointed with him if he did.

Three more men in ski masks spread out behind the leader, having bolted the door to the bank shut.  Given that they’re also armed, he becomes less concerned about what Steve will think.

Bucky doesn’t have enough knives to take them all out without risking anyone else getting hurt, so he slowly lowers himself to the ground with the rest of the civilians. If he can just wait until they get a little closer, he can-

“Now, everyone just keep quiet, and we’ll be in and out without anyone getting hurt." The leader announces as he struts to the cashier’s window. “I’m here to make a withdrawal.”

“What a coincidence. So am I.” Bucky turns to see a red and blue blur swing down from the ceiling and into the leader.

Bucky rolls to his feet and throws his knife at the gunman taking aim at the idiot in the spandex suit. It isn’t his idiot. The gunman falls to the floor with Bucky’s knife buried in his chest. He rushes one of the other gunmen as the kid, _Spiderman, the news had called him_ , finishes taking care of the leader.

One punch to the temple with his metal fist, and the third gunman is down for the count. Bucky swings around just in time to watch the final robber open fire at Spiderman.

“ _What kind of name is Spiderman? It’s some teenager in a mask, Steve. Where are his parents? Who told him he should become a vigilante?”_ Bucky remembers saying. Now he watches the kid attempt to dodge the bullets, but one of them grazes his stomach.

Bucky jabs at the robber’s kidney, to take his attention off of the kid, then gets him in a chokehold and waits for him to fall unconscious.

It’s over in a matter of minutes.

Sirens sound from outside the bank, while the only sound from inside is the sobbing of some of the scared civilians and a pained groan from Spiderman.

“You okay, kid?” Bucky asks him, taking in the amount of blood staining the suit.

“Holy shit! You’re Bucky Barnes!” Spiderman gushes, awe evident in his voice.

There’s banging on the door, signaling cops trying to get inside. Bucky hesitates, “If they see you bleeding, they’re going to try and get you treatment, and you don’t look like you want anyone to find out who you are under that mask. But don’t leave, you need someone to look at that wound.”

“Oh my god! I just stopped a bank robbery with Bucky Barnes! This is a dream come true, somebody pinch me.” The kid laughs in delight, then grunts from the pain. He grips his stomach where blood is still sluggishly spreading over his suit. “Oh, ow. Okay, don’t pinch me, this is definitely real life.”

“You came in after they bolted the door, so obviously you have a different way to get out. Go, and wait for me in the alley outside.” Bucky orders, heading to the front door to unlock it without waiting for a response.

When Bucky turns back around to check on Frank as police storm the bank, the kid is nowhere in sight. Bucky hopes the kid did as he was ordered, and didn’t just take off.

“Son, if I had known going to the bank with you would have been this exciting, I would have given in a lot sooner.” Frank says when Bucky gets close enough. “Just wait until I tell the others about this.”

“If you tell them I got you caught in a bank robbery, the others might never trust me again, Frank.” Bucky claps him on the shoulder companionably. “You okay?”

“What’s a little fire fight between friends? Besides, this was nothing compared to ‘Nam, son.”

“Glad to hear it.” Bucky grins.

“Sergeant Barnes.” A detective calls from a few feet away. “The clerk says you helped take down the robbers?”

“Yes, sir.” Bucky isn’t exactly wary of the detective, but he hasn’t had any positive interactions with law enforcement that he can remember. “I did what I had to do.”

“Of course, Sergeant.” The detective holds out a hand, which Bucky accepts after a miniscule pause. “Do you think you could sign something for my son? You’re his hero.”

Bucky ignores the blush staining his cheeks and agrees. He playfully kicks Frank’s shin when Frank laughs at him. Bucky signs the detective’s note pad with a shaky hand. “I’m free to go, right?”

The detective glances at the body being wheeled out of the bank with Bucky’s knife still protruding from his chest.

“You’re free to go. Thank you for your help.”

“You okay if I leave you, Frank? I think we might have to come back another day.” Bucky escorts Frank out of the bank.

“Go help that kid.” Frank motions towards the alley dismissively. “And find out where his parents are! Who lets their kid run around in spandex, fighting guys with guns? I have a few words I’d like to say to them.”

Bucky waves Frank off and ducks into the alley. He gives it a cursory scan, and lets out a relieved breath when he spots the kid sitting against the wall, a hand pressed against his wound. Bucky wanders closer and drops down to a crouch in front of the kid. “Let me see it.”

“You were so awesome in there. You were like _wham_ and then   _bam_ and the way you choked that guy out was amazing.” The kid says excitedly, moving his hand away from his stomach.

Bucky ignores the rambling, focuses on the amount of blood still trickling out of the kid.

“You’re bleeding pretty heavily, kid. You got some place we can go so I can take a proper look at this?”

“Not really?”

Bucky sighs, and weighs his options in his mind. “Alright, follow me. I got a med bag in my car, courtesy of my mother hen friend Sam.”

“Falcon?! I saw him on the news during the whole DC thing, he was awesome!” The kid gets to his feet, all wobbly colt legs, and follows after Bucky eagerly.

Bucky can’t see the kid’s expression, but he thinks the kid blanches when he realizes what situation he was talking about, and just who else was involved.

“I mean, not that fighting _you_ was a good thing, or-”

“It’s fine, Sam is pretty awesome.” When the kid stumbles, Bucky slings an arm around the kid’s waist, taking most of his weight, and helps him around the corner where he parked his car.

“You’re lucky I had my car today at all. I normally walk everywhere. Get in.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to get in the car with strangers.”

Bucky can hear the smile in his voice. He rolls his eyes and unlocks the car, gesturing at the door impatiently. “Please, by all mean, stay here and bleed out.”

“Technically, you’re not a stranger.” The kid hedges, opening the door and sliding in the passenger’s seat, hissing in pain.

“I’m sure that will please your parents.” Bucky frowns when the kid flinches at the comment. He opens his mouth to ask, but then thinks better of it, shutting his mouth with a _snap_. He gets the car on the road, pointing it away from the roadblocks set up around the bank.

“Where are we going?” The kid asks a few minutes into the silent car ride. He laughs nervously.

“You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me, are you?”

“You should have thought of that possibility before you got in the car.” Bucky cuts off a convertible in order to get into the turn lane that will take them out of the city.

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“It’s not supposed to be.” Bucky lets the silence stretch a few heartbeats. “But no, I’m not taking you some place to kill you. It would have been much easier to kill you back in the bank and pretend you were a victim of the robbers.”

“Well, now I just feel silly for worrying.”

Bucky presses hard on the gas as soon as the light turns green, flipping off the skateboarder trying to make it across the crosswalk. “Maybe you should focus on putting pressure on that wound instead of coming up with smart ass comments.”

“I don’t really have to focus on coming up with the comments. You make it pretty easy.”

Bucky fights back a smile, watching the kid out of the corner of his eye. The kid can’t be older than 16 or 17, he’s got the long, skinny body of a teenager still going through the occasional growth spurt, and his voice sounds young and innocent. Yet, here he is, bleeding from a bullet wound in the front seat of the car Stark had happily handed over.

“We’re going to Brooklyn?”

“There’s some granola bars in the glove compartment.” Bucky says, instead of answering. It’s pretty obvious they’re going to Brooklyn given they’re heading over the Brooklyn Bridge.

“I’m not hungry.” The kid says, but opens the glove compartment anyway, making a happy noise when he pulls out a chocolate granola bar.  He rips off the wrapper eagerly, and grabs the bottom of his mask before he freezes.

“If you’re that worried about me seeing your face, just pull it up over your mouth. I promise I won’t look.”

The kid hesitates for a few seconds, before he shrugs and rolls the mask up to his mouth, shoving half the granola bar into his mouth in one bite.

Bucky shakes his head, and focuses on getting them to the apartment as quickly as possible. The kid’s suit is looking redder than Bucky would like, the blood visibly soaking through.

After they moved into the Tower, Bucky had still wanted a place he could get away to if he needed it. He didn’t want to call it a safe house, but that’s what it served as: a refuge for when the Tower felt too overwhelming. Only he and Steve had keys to it, and Steve only ever used his when he knew Bucky was already there.

The kid finishes off the first granola bar and starts on a second. “These are good.”

At least, that’s what Bucky thinks he says. It’s hard to be sure when it’s all garbled by a mouthful of granola. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouthful?”

The kid laughs, then immediately grimaces, hunching over his stomach, groaning.

“We’re almost there.” Bucky speeds up a little more, racing through the last few miles. He pulls into the driveway of a one-story brownstone and turns the car off. “Here we are.”

“Whose place is this?” The kid asks, bottom half of his face pale as death. He scrambles out of the car, just as Bucky gets around to his door, and helps him inside.

“Mine.” Bucky helps the kid settle on the couch, before he goes back to the car to grab the med bag left by Sam. When he gets back inside, the kid is stretched out on the couch, holding onto his stomach. “You have more than one suit right? Because I’m gonna have to cut this one up a little bit.”

“Do you know how long it took me to make this one?”

“Maybe having to make a second one will teach you not to get shot again.” Bucky kneels on the floor next to the couch, rifling through the bag until he finds the scissors and cuts around the bleeding wound.

“It’s just a graze.”

“It’s a pretty deep graze.” Bucky drops the scissors and picks up the gauze, wiping away some of the blood so he can get a better look at the wound. “What were you even doing at a bank in the middle of the day? Shouldn’t you be in school? How old are you anyway?”

“What were _you_ doing at a bank in the middle of the day?” The kid grits his teeth as Bucky pokes at the edges of the graze. “And that’s none of your business. How do you know I’m not as old as you?”

“Kid, I’m 98. I’m pretty sure you’re not that old.” Bucky pours some cleaning solution over the graze, ignoring the kid’s hiss of pain. “This is gonna need some stitches. You should really go to a hospital.”

“Hospitals report gunshot wounds.”

Bucky scrutinizes what he can see of the kid’s face, taking in the stubborn set of his jaw. He knows that look, knows better than to argue with it. “I can stitch it for you.” He offers. “I don’t have anesthetic though. It’ll hurt like hell.”

“I can take it.” The kid says, gripping the couch cushions tightly. “I can take it.”

Bucky huffs. Now where has he heard that before? “I bet you can.” He pats the kid’s thigh, and pulls the suturing kit out of the bag. “If you need to throw up, don’t worry about me seeing your face. I promise I can keep a secret.”

Bucky has to hand it to the kid. He stays as silent as possible while Bucky stitches him up, teeth clenched so hard that Bucky’s afraid he’s going to crack them. “Doing okay?” He asks after a few minutes.

In response, the kid pulls his mask off completely and vomits over the edge of the couch.

Bucky tries not to look as disgusted as he feels. “Almost done.” He finishes the last few stitches as quickly as he can without messing them up. “There.” He ties off the last stitch and cuts the thread. “Now your blood will stay where it belongs: on the inside.”

“Thanks.” The kid croaks, hand over his sweaty forehead, eyes closed.

Bucky gets up and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He presses the cold bottle to the kid’s cheek, until the kid startles and takes it. Bucky cleans up the gauze and medical gear while the kid drinks the water. He’s unsurprised at how young he looks. “Now that I’ve seen your face, do I get to know your name?”

The kid grimaces. “Peter.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter.” Bucky settles on a chair across from the couch, eyeing the ki- _Peter_.

“You can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky Barnes.” Peter whistles. “I can’t believe I actually met you.”

“Bled all over me, too.”

The kid shrugs. “That just means we’ve officially bonded. There’s no getting rid of me now.”

“You bled on me, we didn’t seal a blood oath.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Feeling better?”

“If by _better_ , you mean my stomach is throbbing and I feel like I’m being stabbed every time I move, then yeah, I’m feeling better.”

“Maybe you’ll take this as a learning experience, and not get shot again.” Bucky glances at the clock, making sure he’s not running too late from his usual schedule. Although Steve is rarely home these day, he does show up randomly, and worry when Bucky isn’t around.

Peter snorts. “Fat chance of that. As long as the bad guys can get their hands on guns, there’s always the chance for me to get shot again. I’ll just have to be faster next time.”

“Why are you even doing this? Don’t you have parents worrying about you? I can’t imagine anyone being fine with their teenager running around in spandex getting shot at.”

“It’s not spandex!” Peter glares at Bucky, then drains the rest of the water bottle. He shifts on the couch, dragging himself to a sitting position. “It’s just me and my aunt.” He finally says, looking away. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“You don’t think she’ll find out if the worst happens and you end up dead? You should be at school, hanging out with your friends, whatever it is normal teenagers do these days.”

Peter scoffs, crosses his arms over his chest. “So what, I’m just supposed to sit back and do nothing when I _could_ be doing something? My uncle...” The kid pauses, grits his teeth together, face set in a mulish expression. “My Uncle Ben used to tell me that ‘with great power comes great responsibility’. Well, I have the power, and now I have the responsibility to use it to help those that need it.”

Bucky sits back, painfully aware of all the similar speeches he’s heard from Steve over the years.

“You know, you remind me of someone I know. I think he’d agree with you. You’re just doing what you think is right.”

“I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.” Peter implores.

Bucky mulls that over. “You’re not too bad, kid.” He tells Peter, after a few moments of silence.

“But it’s getting late, will your Aunt be expecting you for dinner?”

Peter glances at the clock with wide eyes. “Shit.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Where can I drop you off?” Bucky gets up and grabs the med bag, ignoring Peter’s sputtering.

“You don’t need to drop me off anywhere. I can make my own way home.”

“And how would I feel if you got mugged on your way home, huh?” Bucky stands by the front door, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m a superhero, I can take care of myself.”

“Look, I’m not leaving you here alone, and I’m not just gonna watch you leave right after I sewed your stomach shut. So you either tell me where to drop you off, or we’ll both be here a damned long time.” Bucky leans back against the door, making it clear he can, and will, wait Peter out.

“Ugh, fine.” Peter rolls his eyes, and carefully gets to his feet. He purses his lips when he grabs his mask off the coffee table. “You don’t happen to have any spare clothes I can borrow, do you? I kinda left my backpack with my extra clothes outside of the bank.”

“Yet somehow you were shocked when your competency was called into question.” Bucky gives the kid a pointed look, dropping the med bag, and heading off to the back bedroom where he does happen to keep a few extra changes of clothes. He picks out a hoodie, t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants. They’ll all be way too big on the kid, but Bucky figures it’s better than arriving home in the bloodied leotard the kid is currently wearing.

“Here you go.” Bucky chucks the clothes at the kid. “They’ll be big on you, but they should do.”

“Well, not all of us have super soldier serum running through our veins.” Peter mutters under his breath on his way to the bathroom to change.

“What was that?” Bucky ask sharply.

“Nothing!” Peter calls, slamming the bathroom door shut.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. He wanders into the tiny room that passes for kitchen, grabbing a pen and piece of paper off the counter. He jots his number down on it, before folding it up and sticking it in his pocket.

Peter comes back out, looking like a little kid playing dress up in his father’s clothes. He glares when Bucky smirks at him. “Shut up.”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Bucky gestures to the door, following the kid out of the house, making sure to grab the med bag and lock the door behind them. “Just tell me where to turn.”

Peter gives him the directions, but otherwise there isn’t much talk between them, until Peter tells Bucky to pull over.

Bucky gives the neighborhood a once-over, deciding it’s probably as safe a neighborhood as any to live in. “Which one’s yours?”

“It’s around the corner, I just didn’t want my aunt to see me being dropped off by a stranger in an expensive car. Knowing Aunt May, she’d think I was turning tricks.”

“Wait!” Bucky says when Peter goes to open the door. He pulls the folded piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it over. “Here.”

Peter takes it and unfolds it, brows shooting up in surprise when he sees what it is.

“If you ever need anything, let me know. And even if you don’t, you can still call. I expect to hear from you in a few days about your graze, okay?” Bucky holds Peter’s gaze until the kid reluctantly nods.

“Okay, Mom.” Peter grins, slipping the card into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Get out of my car.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going, I’m going. No need to get all huffy.” Peter snorts, opening the door.

“I should have let you bleed out.” Bucky grumbles.

“Aw, don’t be like that, now I have to go blog about getting to meet the great Sergeant Barnes. I’m gonna be Twitter famous.” Peter mock-salutes before he slams the door and walks away.

“And I thought Stark was a pain in the ass.” Bucky watches Peter round the corner, shaking his head in amusement. Once Peter is out of sight, Bucky puts the car in gear and heads back to the tower, turning up the radio and whistling along with it. For having been involved in a bank robbery, he’s in a surprisingly good mood.

When he parks in the underground parking lot of the Tower and gets out, Clint and Natasha are just getting into a car.

“Someone’s in trouble.” Natasha calls, Clint laughing next to her. “Your boyfriend is freaking out.”

“Why? Wait, Steve’s here? Is he okay?”

“Oh, he’s here all right, and shouting down the building asking where you are because apparently you were involved in a bank robbery.” Natasha _tsks_. “How naughty of you, not calling Steve to tell him what happened.”

Bucky flips her off, and gets in the elevator, pushing the button for his floor.

“Sergeant Barnes, I’ve taken the liberty of informing Captain Rogers you are on your way to your shared floor.” Jarvis’s’ voice flows through the speakers. “The Captain asked to be informed the minute you set foot in the building.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, his ire starting to rise. “That’s fine, Jarvis.”

When the elevator doors open, Steve is waiting anxiously in front of them. “Bucky, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Steve.” Bucky shrugs passed Steve, heading for the kitchen. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?! Bucky!” Steve blocks Bucky’s path, eyes hard with anger and fear. “Why didn’t you call and tell me if it ‘wasn’t a big deal’? Were you even going to tell me some guys held you at gunpoint?!”

“Jesus Christ, Steve. I had it under control! No civilians even got hurt. What’s your problem?”  

Bucky clenches his fists at his side, barely holds himself back from pushing past Steve.

“My problem is that you could have died and you didn’t even call to tell me you were okay!”

Bucky grits his teeth so hard, he thinks he might’ve cracked a tooth. “Oh, just like you’ve been calling me on your one-man mission to destroy Rumlow?” He stalks forward, gets in Steve’s face. “You don’t like how it feels to be kept up to date by a third party? To have Hill telling you the things your fucking partner should be telling you? I can’t imagine how _that_ feels!” He spits out.

“What?” Steve steps back, shocked. “I didn’t- that’s not the same- I’ve been-” He stammers.

“Busy? Too busy to call and tell me how you’re doing? Or to find out how I’m doing? Jesus, Steve, the longest conversation I’ve had with you since Rumlow popped back up on the grid was two months ago, and that was only because it was your fucking birthday!”

“Bucky, I-” Steve’s face falls. “Why didn’t you say something? Tell me you were feeling this way?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you, Steve! It’s pretty obvious that when you care about someone, you fucking tell them how you’re doing. You don’t wait for someone else to do it for you. Goddamn, you’ve been spending so much time on your vendetta with that asshole, I’ve barely seen you in three months!” Bucky lashes out and puts a fist through the wall. The anger is bubbling up inside him, and is he doesn’t get it out, he’ll explode.

“Bucky-” Steve tries.

“No, listen to me Steve. Do you have any idea what I’ve been doing while you were gone? You don’t. Yeah, maybe I should have called you right after I got out of the bank today, I’ll do better next time. But Christ, I’m just taking my cues from you. _When_ you remember to ask what I’ve been up to, you end up falling asleep while I’m telling you, because you’re running yourself fucking ragged.”

Steve’s shoulders hunch, and his expression becomes pained and tense. “Bucky, I’m sorry.”

Bucky deflates. “Shit, Steve. I just, I can’t,” He blows out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to fight with you about this. About anything. But you can’t be mad at me for doing the exact same thing you’ve been doing.”

“I’m sorry, Buck. I really am. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“I know, Stevie. I should have said something sooner.”

“You’re okay though, right? I mean physically?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Not even a scratch.” Bucky pulls Steve into a hug.

Steve sniffles against his chest., melting into the embrace. He wraps his arms around Bucky, and clings to him.

 Bucky sighs. “Oh, Stevie. You’ve been going too hard for too long, haven’t you? It’s all bottled up in you, huh?” Bucky scritches at the base of Steve’s scalp, feeling him shiver under his hand.  “Let me take care of you, tonight. Show you how fine I really am.”

“You don’t gotta-”

“Baby, I know I don’t _have_ to, but I _want_ to. I’ve missed you, you know? It’s been too long since we just got to be together.” Bucky slips a hand under Steve’s loose shirt, palms Steve’s warm skin, digging his fingertips into too tense muscles. “Don’t you want to let go for a little while, Stevie? Forget about today, about Rumlow, about everything that isn’t me or my touch?”

“Mmm.” Steve leans further into Bucky’s arms. “You were the one that had a crazy day, I should be takin’ care of you.”

“You can take care of me by letting me take care of you.” Bucky kisses right behind Steve’s ear, tugs at the lobe gently with his teeth. “C’mon, Stevie, I’ll make it good for you.”

“You always make it good for me.”

“Well then, why are you arguing with me?” Bucky teases. “C’mon, bedroom.” He taps at Steve’s ass until Steve takes the hint and lets Bucky pick him up, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“You’re a sap, you know that?” Steve huffs, setting to marking up Bucky’s neck.

“Only for you, Stevie.” He drops Steve on the edge of the bed, and steps back to strip off his shirt. “You’re gonna wanna get naked.”

Steve scoots back on the bed, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off as he goes. His shirt gets flung to the floor just as quickly, until Steve’s gloriously naked, head against the pillows, cock already halfway hard. Steve pouts when Bucky climbs on the bed with his pants still on.

“Aren’t you gonna get naked?”

“Not yet, now turn over.” Bucky sits back on his heels, and waits for Steve to flip over on his stomach, before he straddles Steve’s lower legs, right below his ass, and leans over to get the lavender oil from the nightstand. The pants provide a necessary barrier between his dick and Steve’s sweet ass. Without them, his self-control might not be enough to give Steve the massage he knows he needs.

The smell of lavender and jasmine fills the air as Bucky pours some of the oil over his hands.

It’ll be a bitch to get out of the metal plating later, and his hand will smell like flowers for at least a month, but it’s totally worth it to see Steve’s shoulders relax, his body going completely pliant under Bucky.

Steve moans when Bucky works his fingers into his shoulder blades, spreading the oil and loosening Steve’s muscles. “Shit, Bucky. Feels good.”

Bucky works out the knots patiently, then moves lower down Steve’s back, taking time to press against Steve’s spine until it pops and Steve lets out a loud moan of relief. “You’re so tense, Stevie. You’re all knotted up, like you’ve been sleeping on a rock. Gotta take better care of yourself.”

“Couldn’t sleep without you there.” Steve murmurs into the pillows, arching his back into Bucky’s touch.

Bucky sighs and shakes his head. “What am I gonna do with you Stevie?” He thumbs at the dimples right above Steve’s ass.

Steve pushes his ass back against Bucky. “Hopefully, fuck me.”

“I don’t know how anyone thinks you’re a paragon of virtue. You’re a little shit, always trying to get me to stick my dick in you.” Bucky rubs his clothed cock against Steve’s ass teasingly, then leans over him to whisper in Steve’s ear, “my very own cockslut, isn’t that right?”

Steve moans, low and hoarse. When Bucky gets a glimpse of his face, Steve’s eyes are huge and glazed over with lust.

“Yeah, you are.” Bucky murmurs approvingly. “Can hardly wait for me to open you up, fuck you nice and hard just the way you like, can you Stevie?”

“Bucky, c’mon, fuck me.” Steve tries to push up to his elbows, swivels his hips back against Bucky.

“Now, now, Stevie, you’re gonna undo all my hard work.” Bucky places a hand between Steve’s shoulder blades, pushing down until Steve lies flat again. “Just lay there and let me do all the work. I’ll give you what you need.”

Bucky nudges Steve’s legs apart and kneels between them. He spends a few minutes just massaging Steve’s ass, digging his fingers into the muscles, pulling his cheeks apart to admire his hole.

“Bucky.” Steve whines, twisting his head around to pout at Bucky. “Bucky, please.”

“I’m just getting you nice and relaxed for me.”

“You’re being a goddamn tease, is what you’re doing.” Steve grumbles.

“It’s only teasing if I don’t plan on following through. Trust me, Stevie, I’m gonna follow through.”  Bucky runs a slick finger between Steve’s cheeks, brushing over his hole. “I’m making up for lost time here, Steve.”

Steve spreads his legs wider, brings one leg up to his side, bent at the knee, so he’s as spread open as possible. He wiggles his ass in invitation. “Well, by all means then, take your time.”

“Oh, I will.” Bucky drops to his stomach and thumbs Steve’s cheeks open. Without warning, he licks a stripe from Steve’s taint up over his hole, just for fun, before he sets to really licking Steve open.

Bucky sucks and licks, letting spit dribble out of his mouth to get Steve nice and wet for him. He licks in, and curls his tongue, before pulling it back out to nibble at Steve’s rim.

Steve whines and does his best to shove his ass further back on Bucky’s face, toes clenching in the sheets as Bucky eats him out. “Bucky!” Steve moans when Bucky hooks a thumb in his hole and pulls him open to lick in deeper. “Bucky, Christ!”

“If you can still talk, I’m not doing somethin’ right.” Bucky says, pressing his thumb in deeper, and licking around it. Steve’s so relaxed from his massage that he opens easily for Bucky. “Lift up, Stevie.”

Steve does as he’s told, getting his knees under him, hiking his ass higher in the air.

Bucky reaches under Steve and gets a hand around Steve’s dick, stroking him nice and slow as he slips two fingers in Steve’s wet hole. He might normally tease Steve, keep his fingers away from his prostate, or only brush against it every so often, but not tonight. Tonight, he wants Steve crying from the pleasure.

Bucky pays special attention to the head of Steve’s cock at the same time he rubs his fingers mercilessly over Steve’s prostate, until Steve is shaking and squirming, clawing at the sheets and moaning near constantly, little   _Ah, ah, ah’s_ while he gasps for breath.

Bucky thinks Steve looks beautiful all the time. He loves Steve in his uniform, and especially loves him naked, but he likes Steve best like this, drowning in the pleasure Bucky is giving him.

“How you doin, baby doll?”

“Nuuhhhgg.”

“Was that a word?” Bucky adds a third finger. Steve could take him easily enough now without the extra prep, but it’s been too long since Bucky’s had the chance to make Steve incoherent. “You tryin to tell me something, Stevie?”

“Guhhhh.”

“Stevie, baby, I can’t understand you.” Bucky dips the edge of a fingernail into Steve’s slit, spreads his fingers wide over Steve’s prostate. “You think you’re ready for me? Ready for me to fuck you?”

Steve actually sobs, a hiccup of a breath that gets caught in his throat when he tries to talk. He turns his head to look at Bucky with wet eyes, pupils nearly completely obscuring beautiful blue. “Bu-ck.”

“Shh.” Bucky soothes, pulling his fingers free. He’s mesmerized by the sight of Steve’s hole clenching around nothing, as he strips off his pants, ripping them beyond repair in his rush to get them off. “S’okay, Stevie. I’ve gottcha. Gonna give you what you need.”

Bucky grips Steve’s hip with one hand, and lines himself up with the other. When he finally slides all the way into Steve, it feels like coming home. He doesn’t move for a few minutes, instead he just basks in being so connected to Steve. “Stevie, I love you, you know that right?”

Steve whines needily under him. “Love you.” He slurs back, grinding himself against Bucky.

“Love you, love you, love you.” He chants, trying to fuck himself on Bucky’s cock.

Bucky holds Steve still, and pulls back until just the head is still in Steve, and then thrusts back in achingly slow. He keeps up a slow, torturously slow, pace, resisting Steve’s every effort to speed it up. Eventually, Steve falls back against the mattress, pliant, and willing to take whatever Bucky will give him. Only then does Bucky speed up.

Bucky drapes himself over Steve’s back, kisses the back of his neck, the corner of his jaw, the side of his face. “Love you so much, Stevie.” He pumps his hips faster, making sure to hit the right spot with every thrust. “Steve. Jesus, you feel so good.”

Steve tries to rut against the sheets, moaning pitifully until Bucky takes pity on him, and gets a hand under Steve’s belly to jerk him off. “Buck, Bucky, shit, fuck, Buck, yes, yes, please!” Steve manages to say, a single moment of coherency before the pleasure washes his mind blank.

Bucky feels Steve’s body go taut, hole clenched tight around him, as he starts to come.

When Bucky follows a few thrusts later, it’s as much a religious experience as it is a release. He drops all of his weight on Steve’s back, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god.” He pants. “I think I just saw God.”

“Humngf.”

“I’m gonna take that as agreement.” Bucky pats the side of Steve’s face, kisses the crown of his head, and starts to pull out of Steve, when Steve reaches back and grips his ass, holding him still.

“Not yet.”

“Okay, Stevie. Whatever you need.”

Bucky ends up falling asleep still buried in Steve.

Steve leaves the next day, back to his mission to take Rumlow out, but this time he promises to call every day, and to come back home more often.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come scream with me about bucky barnes, steve rogers, and all things stucky on [ tumblr](http://captainbisexualcherry.tumblr.com/).


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